Waiting for Him to Fall
by Julie Poe
Summary: The night before Peter's duel with Miraz, two brothers from different worlds reflect on their relationship with their older brothers. Just brotherly love. AU, Crossover with LOTR.
1. The Stranger That Dreamed

Author's Note- This is a crossover of The Chronicles of Narnia and Lord of the Rings

Author's Note- This is a crossover of The Chronicles of Narnia and Lord of the Rings. If you do not know the plot of either story, don't bother reading this. I don't know if I'd call this a character study, just some insight into brotherly love.

Chapter 1: The Stranger that Dreamed

Edmund paced around in the room of the Stone Table deep within Aslan's How. It was the night before a battle, and he was nervous. Not simply because it was a battle, but because it was not _his_ battle.

It was his brother's.

"Ed, you're making everyone anxious," Peter announced. He had been sitting quietly against the Stone Table next to Lucy, who had nearly fallen asleep against his arm.

"I'm sorry." What else could he say?

"Actually, it's just Peter you're making anxious," Lucy stated truthfully. Before Peter could protest, she rose and pulled on his arm.

"Come on, Peter. You need to rest. Goodnight, Ed." Lucy began to lead her eldest brother out of the room. He paused, and locked eyes with his brother.

"Please get some sleep, Ed. I need you to be sharp tomorrow."

"Get some sleep yourself. You need to be sharper than me." Peter smiled, then put a comforting hand on Ed's shoulder.

"Goodnight." Edmund smiled weakly, pushing back all the horrible thoughts of what lay in store for his brother in the morning.

"Goodnight, Peter."

After they left, he sat down, leaning against the Stone Table. He closed his eyes, trying to banish the fear and anxiety from his heart. He knew he should have sought out Susan or Lucy for comforting words, but they had their own challenges to worry about.

He had the worst task of the four the next day, he knew. He had to watch and wait.

Edmund must have fallen asleep, for suddenly a strange voice came to his ears. It was deeper than Peter's or Caspian's; it was not as deep as Aslan's or the centaurs'.

"What is this place? Surely I must be in a dream."

Edmund's eyes flew open. An intruder!

Before him stood a tall, dark-haired stranger with deep grey eyes. Startled, Edmund drew his sword. The stranger drew his own, but neither moved to attack.

"Who are you? A Telmarine? You do not wear the usurper's device." The stranger wore a similar garb to his own. Knee high leather boots, a grey cloak, leather vambraces, and a leather jerkin bearing a foreign device: a tall white tree with many branches.

"I do not recognize _your_ symbol, stranger. And no, I am not a Telmarine, as you say. I hail from the land of Gondor and I mean you no harm," the stranger replied, and sheathed his sword. Edmund returned the gesture. "From what land do you hail? That is not the symbol of Rohan, and you are no Elf. And I have never seen such a dwarf as tall as you."

"I am King Edmund the Just, one of the kings of Narnia," Edmund answered, surprised that this man had not heard of his country. "And you?"

"I am Faramir, son of Denethor. Where is this land of Narnia? Surely it is not in Middle Earth."

"I'm afraid not, Lord Faramir. Perhaps we should sit? It seems we have much to talk about." Edmund gestured to a stone ledge a foot above the ground. Faramir sat and looked about at the strange carvings and the stone table.

"So I am no longer in Middle Earth."

"It would seem so. I wonder what Magic brought you to me tonight?" Edmund wondered out loud.

"Is the magic of your land powerful?" Faramir asked, he grey eyes filled with excitement.

"Oh, yes. I have seen it first hand, though I have no power over it, even though I am king. Have you any Magic in your land?"

"Indeed, but like you, I cannot harness it. I know those who have harnessed it." He paused, confused. "You said that you were one of the kings of Narnia?"

"At the moment, only one other. Though we are trying to restore the throne to another. You see my brother Peter, he's the High King. He and my two sisters ruled for Narnia for many years…" and Edmund told the story of the adventure in the wardrobe, how they had been called back from their world, and how they had met Prince Caspian.

"My brother intends to restore Caspian's throne by means of single combat against the usurper Miraz."

"Never in all my years have I heard such a strange tale," Faramir breathed. "Two other worlds…"

"Many worlds, according to Professor Kirke, a very wise man from the other world," Edmund added. "Now, tell me of Middle Earth, and of Gondor."

And so Faramir shared his world's story, telling Edmund of the one Ring and of the plans to have a great meeting of Men, Elves, and Dwarves in the Elvish land of Rivendell to decide what to do with it.

"Not long ago my brother Boromir set out to attend that meeting." Edmund could see the worry in Faramir's eyes.

"You have an older brother too?" Faramir smiled at the question and nodded.

"Yes."

"What's he like?"

"Very noble, very brave. He's quite the warrior. And he's stubborn. And self-sacrificing. What's your brother, Peter, like?"

"Very much the same. It must be common to have noble, brave, and pigheaded brothers."

Faramir smiled. He liked this boy. Edmund was very much like himself when he had been that age.

"No. We're lucky." Edmund's smile disappeared. He shivered.

"My brother's going off to fight tomorrow," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's hard isn't it?"

_More than you'll ever know,_ Edmund almost said, then realized Faramir did know.

"It's strange. He's spent all his life protecting me; he's always been the strong one, the brave one. And then when it's his battle, and I want to protect him, as he protected me, but I can't."

"You want so badly to help him. It's so unbearable to stay behind and wait for-" Faramir stopped.

"Him to fall," Edmund finished. It was Faramir's turn to shiver.

"It's hard being a little brother. I'll never forget our first battle. He led the troops on a charge against the White Witch and I had to watch from the archer's position."

"Every moment is pure anxiety," Faramir put in, knowing the feeling all too well. "You cannot bear to watch, and yet you must."

"And then he was thrown from his steed. He was all alone on the battlefield, and the enemy knew he had fallen. They thought him easy prey. I had thought for sure that I was going to watch my brother die."

"It is maddening and sickening at the same time. You want to strike down all the evil creatures that threaten him but you also want to cry helplessly."

Edmund nodded. It was almost like talking to an older reflection of himself.

"My brother and I were ambushed by Orcs when we were young. I was nearly your age now. We were both wounded, he worse than I, and yet he faced the remaining Orcs. I could not move, paralyzed by fear and pain, and could only watch as he drew closer and closer to death." Faramir swallowed hard, recalling the terror he had felt.

New fear arose in him as he thought of his brother traveling to Rivendell. He had let his brother go on this great journey, virtually alone. Faramir had given up too easily when his father had let Boromir go.

_Oh, Boromir, why didn't I just go with you?_

"I was badly wounded in that battle, by the White Witch. He fought against the greatest evil Narnia has ever seen, because she had hurt me. He almost lost that battle. I would never have forgiven myself if-" he stopped, suddenly choked with emotion.

_Oh, Peter, why did I ever let you agree to fight Miraz?_

Edmund and Faramir stared into each other's eyes. They saw the same worry, the same love for a brother in each other's eyes.

"Your Peter is a strong and brave king. He would have to be to have brother such as you. I know he will triumph over this Miraz." Edmund smiled.

"And your Boromir is a stubborn warrior. He will succeed in his journey just as he succeeded in saving your life." Faramir returned the smile.

Edmund rose. It suddenly felt as if morning was coming, though in the depths of Aslan's How there was no evidence of it. It was time to ready himself for Peter's battle.

Faramir sensed too that dawn was approaching. He smiled at Edmund.

"I feel that you and I shall soon part."

"I feel the same."

"Farewell, King Edmund the Just, brother of High King Peter. You and your brother shall be in my thoughts."

"Farewell, Lord Faramir, brother of Boromir. I pray that you shall see your brother soon."

They smiled at each other, though deep within their hearts, unbeknownst to each other, they knew that only one of them would see their brother live through the day.

Both awoke, Edmund leaning against the Stone Table, Faramir in his tent in the Grey Woods. They thought of each other, wondering if the other was real, and wondering which brother would survive the day.


	2. The Brother That Lived

Chapter 2: The Brother That Lived

Chapter 2: The Brother That Lived

Author's Note- There will be another chapter after this one, I promise! I know this is very short but there is a reason and that shall be explained in the final chapter. Enjoy!

Edmund fell into a deep sleep, his heart filled with inexpressible sadness. He wondered if he would see the stranger from another world again, and what words would pass between the two.

He opened his eyes, and much to his surprise, he found himself standing in a nearly empty room. He recognized it immediately; it was a special room of an old house in England. He had not been here in a year. Before him stood a door to another world, a beautifully crafted wardrobe. The wardrobe.

"It seems we meet again, King Edmund the Just, and in a far stranger place than before." Edmund turned and saw that Faramir stood behind him. Faramir's grey eyes were tinged with sadness.

"This is my other world," Edmund managed to get out, his voice choked with emotion. "This is England."

The two were silent for a long time. They stared at each other, grief tugging at their hearts. Both knew that a brother had lived, and a brother had died. They struggled to find the words to announce their relief or sadness.

"My brother lives," one said softly, knowing how much pain he brought to the other's heart. But the words had to be said, no matter how painful.

"He fell." His voice was filled sadness. He choked back a sob, remembering the horrible moment he realized his brother was dead.

Faramir stepped forward, moved by Edmund's grief.

"I know," Faramir said softly. He took Edmund's hand. "I'm so sorry."

"Miraz took him from me, Faramir. They agreed to rest, and while Pete- Peter's back was turned, Miraz stabbed him in the back. I saw Miraz turn, I screamed for Peter to turn, but I…. I was too late. He couldn't even turn. It… it went right through his armor. I couldn't help him, I couldn't…" Edmund was chattering uncontrollably, his speech in short agonizing bursts.

"Oh, Edmund," Faramir breathed, and squeezed the boy's hand tightly. Edmund's body was trembling, fighting the bitter tears that would inevitably fall.

"I watched him fall. He looked right at me, and then fell. I didn't know what to do. I've fought for him before, but what could I do? He was on the ground and Miraz was charging forward."

Edmund swallowed hard, recalling the horrible moment after Peter's fatal wounding. Miraz had charged forward, a war cry upon his lips, his sword red with Peter's blood. Had it not been for Trumpkin's deadly arrow, Edmund would not have lived to say goodbye to Peter.

"I held him, and I watched him die. I watched the light in his eyes flicker and fade. He couldn't even speak. He just stared at me. Oh, Faramir!" Edmund finally lost the battle with his tears. He crumpled to his knees and found himself in Faramir's embrace.

"He fell, Faramir, he fell," Edmund sobbed. Faramir did not speak. He continued to hold Edmund just as Peter would have held him.

"Oh, Peter," Edmund whispered, and fell into darkness.


End file.
